Fantasy/Sci-Fi

Laura Kasischke

The broom closet to another planet.

The impending（即将发生的） planetary disaster.

The children in their maniac（发狂的）

trances（恍惚，出神）. The rockets.

The neighbors. The

openmouthed spectators. The boy

tumbling into the bottomless well.

There, the cornstalks（玉米秆）. The rooster

at the center of the earth.

And also on Mars.

Backward, the familiar landmarks.

And the plain voice

which spoke your name

in the middle of the night

on that long drive through Nebraska.

You just kept driving. What

else could you do? Slow down?

And your father who made you

by spilling his billion stars into the dark, while

crying out to your mother

as the sea washed her up on the shore

in the 1960s

with her long hair and her

vegetable recipes. And

you, small package of meat and dream.

And Beethoven, who lived

and died

deaf. Music.

Oblivion.

The kitten

named Sally, alive

for an hour. Then

dead, forever.

Dead forever.

Nowhere, the beginning.

Nowhere, the end.

Like ours, her eyes

never even opened. Like

her, do we

have any idea

where we are?

Where we were?

Where we're going?

Even yesterday?

Even today.